For some reason, her feet couldn’t seem to ignore the finger. It was infuriating.
“Rather bloodthirsty,” he commented before he drew her into his chest.
Oh. Man.
He was like her own personal catnip. As soon as he touched her, her outsides melted while her insides started to dance around.
“Now, stand just outside the room. Give me the lead.”
She handed it to him. But she really didn’t think he’d manage to get Tank up and moving.
“Tank. Come here, boy.”
His voice wasn’t mean, but it was firm. Leaving no room for disobedience.
And to her shock, he stepped out of the room soon after, leading Tank.
“He came for you?” she asked.
“I think your way was making him a bit nervous,” he explained.
Right. Her way was shit in other words.
“Oh,” she said.
“He needed some confidence. But it doesn’t matter now. What matters is that we can get on our way if you grab Berry.”
“Okay.”
She already had the harness on Big B, so all she had to do was attach her lead. Then she followed Matthieu out and waited while he set the alarm and locked up the house.
“Captain will be driving past a couple of times and Brody is watching the cameras until I tell him we’re back.”
“Okay. Good. Tell them thank you.” She knew it was their job but it still meant a lot to her.
“You don’t have to thank them. No one wants you to get hurt, Maya. Or your animals.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She’d never had this before. Normally, this sort of thing would make her feel defensive, because she didn’t know how to react.
And because she didn’t like relying on people. Letting them close. But Maya knew she needed the help. That she had to accept it for her babies.
Plus, there was part of her that was so damn lonely. She just couldn’t take it anymore.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“That’s all we need, Spitfire. Come on, now. Let’s take these guys out for a fun day.”
They had to take her car because Berry wouldn’t fit in his. Which she was relieved about. She’d hate to think of the mess that her animals could make of his fancy leather upholstery. Maya didn’t need that kind of bill.
That didn’t mean she got to drive, though, apparently.
She tapped her foot as she stared at Matthieu. He was holding open the passenger door and had just told her to get in.
“Are you forgetting that this is my car?”
“Nope.”
“My car, I drive.”
